A lively discussion was had the other night with a number of my animal communicator friends and associates. It concerned eating habits. And the question was, if one talks to animals, how can one consume them? (I admit I am an omnivorous individual-I love a really good cheeseburger.) Now many of my friends in this field of work are vegetarians or vegans so it was, as I said, a fairly intense conversation with viewpoints ranging from feeding dogs a vegetarian diet to asking help to convince their cat to stop hunting birds and mice, to admitting without shame to be a carnivore. These decisions are reached on an individual ethical and moral level and it is understood people will do as they are guided. So there were no grimacing judgements being made but it was an interesting round robin.
It made me think, ‘well, why don’t I feel bad when I eat a burger?’ I just didn’t. I thought I should, but nope, no guilt. By the next morning, the subject was completely forgotten.
While eating my breakfast egg in my couch, I was looking out the big picture window at the birds enjoying the seeds when all of a sudden they exploded from the feeder and I heard many of them crashing into my screen door! I jumped to my feet wondering what the heck was wrong with them and the answer swooped inches from my face! The most beautiful Cooper ’s hawk was trying to veer so she won’t crash into the glass as she tried to capture breakfast! A perfect view. She was inches away with only the window between us. Such a marvelous moment!
After catching my breath, I was relieved that no songbirds got caught in her talons but then I saw the hawk seeing in the maple tree, ruffling her feathers to get everything back where it should be and I felt a pang of sympathy. It was very cold and she would have no breakfast this morning.
That of course was the answer to the posed question the night before. Everybody’s got to eat, right? I don’t like seeing a hawk tear a little bird apart for breakfast, but the hawk has to eat also and maybe feed babies so it isn’t doing it for sport. It is a dilemma for sure. It would be more so, but I like to look at the bigger picture. Every species has their place among the others and one’s standing in that community is a fluid thing- sometimes I am a hunter, sometimes I am the hunted. That is the way of it.
Maybe that is why I don’t feel I have betrayed anyone. I do have parameters though. I remember once when feeding the girls a raw diet and my cousin offered to let me have the kid goats she had butchered for the dogs. I clearly remember being horrified because I had talked to their mothers and there just was no way I was going to be able to rationalize feeding their children to my dogs. The dogs would have loved it, but I have to draw the line sometimes. My sister and I had chickens when we lived in the country and they had no chance at all of ending up on our table, it was never going to happen.
But I do like a good cheeseburger and there is the rub.
Once again I find myself without answers. That happens a lot. So I think I will return to the window and see if Ms. Cooper’s Hawk will grace me with another message for clarify in the carnivore vs. herbivore conundrum.